


Infodere

by AwesomeEyeroll



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeEyeroll/pseuds/AwesomeEyeroll
Summary: Claire and Jamie meet on an archaeological dig





	1. Chapter 1

Claire hacked her way through the vegetation. After 12 months based in the university teaching she’d forgotten just how physically demanding field work could be. She’d travelled as far as she could by truck and then by horse but the site lay another 6 hours by road. The jungle track, although more challenging would have her there in less than three, giving her time to set up her tent before all her equipment arrived with the supply trucks. She felt a familiar excitement in the pit of her stomach. She loved her sojourns to the university, sharing her knowledge and practice with the next generation, but field archaeology had always been her first love. She’d started young, only 6 years old, following the death of her parents and a brief and highly unsuccessful stint in a boarding school. Her Uncle Lamb, an esteemed antiquarian and archaeologist of some note, her only living relative, had taken her in and this meant a life of roaming around archaeological digs and universities. She’s never considered another career. She knew she would never find one to match the excitement, the adventure of her calling. 

And this dig. Claire licked her lips as she thought of the possibilities. She and her team had been given rare and unusual access to an ancient site, thought to be Zaptoec in origin. Some digs had already been done at Monte Alban, but it was thought that this new site may date back even further and give new insight to the life of this pre-Columbian civilisation. A pre dig unit had been there for about three weeks already, doing surveying work and creating access to the site for their equipment. She had never met the lead archaeologist in this team and knew him only by reputation having read his recent article on Mayan iconography in a journal. He was based out of the University of Edinburgh, a institution with fine School of Archaeological Sciences and was confident the site had been left in good hands. 

Finally, hot and sweaty Claire and her guide broke through the tree line and out into the clearing. The ruins of a pyramid dominated her skyline and below it all was activity. Graduate students ran to and fro marking out sectors and recording the topography. Equipment specialists tested equipment and tents were being hastily erected to act as sleeping quarters, a dining hall, medical station and several classification and examination tents, equipped with bright lights. She strode purposefully towards the biggest tent.

“I’m Dr Claire Beauchamp. I’m looking for Dr Fraser.”

A slight looking grad student with a gaunt face and a loping gait, led her into the tent. Following she looked around approvingly. Everything seemed to be set up just so. In fact she would have likely not selected any different configuration. The student came to a halt at a tarpaulin which separated the main classification area from the specialist examination area. Whilst the majority of digging, general sorting and labelling would be done by less experienced archaeologists and students, the more serious work would be undertaken by the two senior archaeologists, Claire herself, a specialist in mesoamerican artefacts and Dr Fraser a specialist in Ancient iconography and architecture. They also had a funerary archaeology on hand should any human remains be uncovered which was always a possibility when excavating formerly inhabited areas. The student coughed nervously in an attempt to catch the attention of the person on the other side of the tarp. Claire rolled her eyes slightly, wondering how this nervous little man would cope with both the physical and psychological rigours of eight weeks on a remote dig. The student coughed again, slightly louder this time. A voice from the other side of the tarp rang out.

“For crying out loud, Geordie. Just call my name when you need me. Dinna hang around outside hacking away like a victorian consumptive” The tarp was suddenly pushed to the side and out strode a tall broad figure. So large him seemed to fill the space. He came to a halt in front of Claire who had to rock back slightly in order to look at him, so tall was he. She smirked slightly at his Indiana Jones style hat, before holding out her hand to greet him.  
“Dr Fraser I presume.” She said with a smile. He reached out and took her hand to shake it and she couldn’t help but think how warm and soft it was.   
“And ye’ll be Dr Beauchamp then, aye? Your reputation precedes you. My colleague Dr Gowan was mad wi’ jealousy that I would be working with a archaeologist of such renown.”  
“Oh you know old Ned?” She asked laughing. “I worked with him on one of my first professional digs. It was out at Skara Brae in Orkney. The weather was a bit different to here.” She fanned herself slightly with her hat. She had spent many years in various tropical climes in the course of both her own and Uncle Lamb’s work, but the first few days were always and adjustment, especially when leaving the British Winter behind. Much as she loved her work in Durham University she was never sorry to say goodbye in the winter months.

Fraser laughed. “C’mon then. Let me show you the site and where you’ll be sleeping. No doubt you’ll want to get it all set up so that when we’re all exhausted at the end of the day ye can just fall into bed.” Her stomach tipped slightly when he said the word bed and she caught herself in alarm. “What the fuck Beauchamp?” It was true though, there was something about this tall stranger that had provoked a physical reaction in her. Maybe it was his height or his deep scottish brogue. Or, as she reminded herself sharply, simply the fact that she and Frank had broken up last year and she had not had a man in her life or in her bed since. “Pull yourself together.” She murmured. “Pardon?” Fraser turned around hearing her. “Oh nothing, nothing just talking to myself.” He smiled at her and continued walking. He wasn’t just tall, she decided he was also beautifully built. You could make out his powerful planes of his muscles down through his back and his forearms were strong and slightly freckled where his shirt sleeves were rolled up. Claire shook her head to clear her thoughts. After her time with Frank, whom she had met on a dig several years earlier when he came to examine some Jacobite artefacts that had been uncovered buried in the woods near Inverness, she had vowed not to get involved with anyone again. Her job as a field archaeologist took her away often and for long lengths of time and Frank had grown resentful of her career, especially when it looked set to eclipse his own. She had returned to Oxford from a dig in the Etla Valley, set to turn down a teaching post at Durham. She had arrived a day early to surprise Frank. She had ultimately been the one to be surprised though, when she had found him in bed with a bottle of brandy and the History department secretary. She had left that day, accepting the post at Durham and never looked back. But she had been hurt by the betrayal and convinced that her career was incompatible with a shared life. Afterall, Uncle lamb had never married and maybe that was why. Still, she was only human and Dr Fraser was very attractive. He had removed his hat revealing the most beautiful mop of red hair and his blue eyes were warm and friendly.

“Here ye go, Dr Beauchamp” Fraser came to halt outside a row of tents. “This one here is yours, you get one to yourself as befits our esteemed leader” She glanced at him sharply looking for signs of mocking in his face at that statement but she found none. “Once you’ve got straight I’ll take ye to the canteen for some lunch and then we’ll get started, aye?”

 

He’d been at the site for three weeks now doing set up and surveying the area. Thankfully the students and junior archaeologists he’d been assigned this time were better than the last dig he’d been on. Within a week they’d had the site mapped out and were able to start putting up the site buildings. Once that had been done work began surveying and laying out the grid. He’d been apprehensive about meeting Dr Beauchamp, she had a wonderful reputation and he’s read much of her work, having broadly overlapping specialisms, but digs were stressful places. Time was a constant factor even in on partially privately funded digs like this, the push to get as much out of the ground as they could before the money ran out. The thought of working with an unknown colleague was always daunting. 

Now she was here, some of his apprehension dissipated. She had trekked through the jungle rather than opting to travel in the relative comfort of the truck convoy and didn’t seem in anyway daunted by the remoteness of the site. But then she’d been on sites like this since she was a wee girl if Ned had told him correctly, the niece of the late, great Quentin Lambert Beauchamp. But there was something else about her too. Something about the way her whiskey coloured eyes appraised everything, something about the way the set of her jaw, her confidence and self possession. He found himself wanting to know more about her. 

They sat down to lunch. The canteen tent was almost empty, with just a few people on their staggered breaks, eating snacks and drinking coffee scattered around. It was cool in the tent, or at least compared to outside and large fans kept the air moving and the insects at bay. 

“So, what got you into archaeology?” She asked between bites of her pasta.   
“Oh, I did a year out before uni and ended up on a dig at Ephesus. It was just supposed to be a laugh, but it turned out it was what I really wanted to do.”  
“And a specialist in mesoamerican iconography and architecture? Seems an odd choice for a boy from the Highlands” She asked with a smile. He tilted his head in acknowledgement of the recognition of his accent before continuing.   
“Well actually, that would be the influence of one Dr Beauchamp” He smiled slightly at her surprise at this. “I was lucky enough to do a dig in Belize during my undergraduate studies. He was the lead on it. I never saw a man with such passion for his work. He inspired me.”  
Dr Beauchamp smiled and he felt his heart flutter a little. She really was lovely with that hair and that soft creamy skin. But smart too, and funny.   
“Well then” she laughed. “I guess that makes two of us, Dr Fraser.”  
“Jamie.”he said impulsively “You can call me Jamie”   
For a moment she looked slightly taken aback at the sudden familiarity and he cringed a little at his own unprofessionalism. He was about to apologise when he golden eyes softened again. She tilted her head a little as she looked him and he once again felt a slight flutter in the depths of his stomach.

“Claire.” she replied.


	2. Chapter 2

Her back arched at the sensation. Hair like fire tickled her thighs. She gasped as strong hands grasped her under her hips lifting her towards his mouth, her breath coming in gasps. His tongue worked gently but persistently and she could feel the muscles of her stomach and thighs tighten as her climax built. One of his hand reached up and caressed her breast and she brought a hand down and ran it through the red hair. 

A loud crash jerked Claire awake. She blinked dazed and struggled to sit up. She was breathing heavily, sheened in sweat which wasn’t entirely to do with the tropical heat. She looked around as she realized where she was and who exactly the red hair and wandering hands belonged to. She blushed further when she realized that all that separated her from the man in her dream was two thin walls of canvas and six inches of grass between the tents. Pulling herself together she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and dragged them on, as she headed out to investigate the commotion.

Running across the clearing to where a crowd had begun to gather, she pushed her way to the front. One of the equipment trailers, which had arrived with the last of the convoy at dusk and had therefore not yet been unloaded had been forced open and some of its contents were flung about. Only the top layer seemed to be disturbed however.

“Wi’ the racket they were making, they’d no have any time to really find whatever it is they were looking for. What’s in this trailer, Sassenach?” Jamie turned to her in question and it took her a moment to realise he meant her.

“Oh, erm, this one..” She shone a torch into the trailer “Reference materials mostly. Dr Moreno’s stuff from the university.” She was referring to the cultural anthropologist from the National Autonomous University of Mexico, who along with Jamie, Claire and a physical anthropologist, Dr Zapote, made up the senior team overseeing the dig.  
“Maybe they thought there was something else in her?” She wondered out loud. Jamie made a Mmmmph noise in the back of his throat and Claire fought the urge to laugh at such a thoroughly Scottish sound here in the middle of the Mexican rain forest, surrounded by the remains of another, very different culture.   
“Well, we’ll lock this up the best we can and I’ll maybe talk to the camp manager in the morning about having some extra security here at night.”

Claire made her way back to her tent and laid there in the dark listening to the sounds of the camp. She heard Jamie come back to his own tent sometime later. She could him him rustling around as he undressed and her stomach flipped slightly.  
“Damn it, Beauchamp” she murmured into the dark turning on her side

 

Breakfast had been eaten and after several hours of frantic activity which involved the arrival of the archeology students from the local university who would along with a group of interns do the majority of the actual digging and cataloguing, and Dr Zapote the physical anthropologist they gathered for a site briefing before the dig began in earnest.

“Okay,” Claire’s voice was clear and rang out across the clearing. Jamie leaned against a trailer drinking coffee and watching her. “We need to lay out some very strict rules for this dig. This is an area of immense cultural significance to the indigenous community. We have been invited here. Very strict protocols must be observed when it comes to the excavations. First up, nothing bigger than the palm of your hand comes out of the ground without running it by Dr Moreno or one of his team. They will decide if it needs special handling or if it is not appropriate for it to be handled by someone outside the Zapotec community. You photograph, document and only when you have permission do you bring it out of the ground. “ Claire looked around the assembled group, catching eyes and trying to impress the importance of her words. “This goes double if you find human remains. We have no idea what this area was used for. As a result in the case of any bones, photograph, document and haul ass to Dr Zapote, here. He and his team will make all decisions about how these finds should be treated. There are to be no exceptions to this. This might make this dig slower than some that you might have worked on, but ethics are important in archaeology, as is the understanding that we show respect to the past.”

She continued, introducing the various team leaders, outlining protocols and assigning teams. She was lovely, but there was something slightly ferocious about her, something wild and untamed. She fascinated Jamie more than any other woman he had ever met. It wasn’t just her intellect, formidable though it was. As an academic her knew any number of intensely gifted women, his last girlfriend, Geneva had been a highly published sociologist, but Claire was different. His reaction to her at first meeting had caught him off kilter.

“Dr Fraser?” He started as he realised she was looking at him along with 65 archaeologists, 8 technicians, 4 physical anthropologists and cultural anthropologist. He shook his head.

“Sorry, could you just repeat that, Dr Beauchamp?”  
Claire rolled her eyes a little but she was smiling.   
“I said, would you like to explain our documentation and classification process?”

“Oh aye, sorry.” He stepped forward then, explaining the paperwork that should be completed for the different artefacts and how they should be then packed for shipping to the museum in Mexico City.

By the end of the week the first trench had been dug and a significant number of small items recovered. So far they had found the usual expected items, pottery, household items and a smattering of jewellery, but they boded well for more significant finds to come. The camp sat scattered across the clearing in sociable groups, chatter in Spanish, Portuguese and English drifting through the air. Jamie sat down next to Claire on ground close to their tents. He held out a bottle of beer to her and she took it with a nod of thanks.

“You happy with the finds?” he asked?  
Claire nodded as she took a swig of beer.   
“I think so. There was definitely something here beyond just the pyramid, but what we’ve found so far don’t really tell us much more than that. I’m hoping the second trench will give us some structures, or at least some slightly more quantifiable artefacts. We only have a limited permit to dig here and without some significant finds it will be hard to justify our presence. There are plenty who don’t want excavations here. Its why the protocols matter so much.”

“Aye, and then there’s the legends?” Claire laughed slightly at this and chinked her bottle against his.   
“The great lost treasures. Ha. Those stories are just that. If anyone seriously believed those stories someone would have dug here long before now, permits or not. There were plenty of people with less scruples about desecrating indigenous sites in the past. Our knowledge of the past is practically founded on it.” Her voice was wry and she pulled a slight face at this. 

“True” He replied, slowly. “And there still are.” Claire followed his gaze towards the trailer that had been broken open a week earlier.  
“You can’t seriously think…?” she practically stuttered in her incredulity. “That people might actually think…? That we ‘know’ something? Oh God that is too ridiculous, we are a serious fieldwork team not Indiana Jones style treasure hunters. God…”

“Aye, Sassenach.” was his measured response. “We ken that, but there might be others that don’t. Most people dinna realise that 90% of archaeology is digging up wee bit of pottery and trying to glue them back together. How many times have ye been asked if you’re like Lara Croft?” Claire threw her head back and laughed at this statement. 

“Honestly, more than once. And I bet you get the Indiana Jones thing all the time don’t you?” She was grinning at him now. “Especially in that hat.” She nudged him cheekily in the ribs and he nudged her back. They stayed like that for a moment, both leaning against the other, savouring the warmth of the person next to them as the night cooled, both overcome with how *right* it felt. Almost without thinking Claire shifted slightly bringing her body closer to Jamie’s so that they were flush along their sides and rested her head on his shoulder. Jamie shifted in time, his arm coming round her back, bringing her close to him. Neither of them spoke, they just looked out over the camp, watching the lamps sway in the gloaming light. A shriek of laughter from the group nearest to them made them both jump and made them suddenly aware of their intimacy. Jamie turned to Claire, meaning to apologise but instead found her mouth against his. Without hesitation he returned her kiss, the heat of her lips and tongue making his stomach flip. His hands ran across her back as hers came up around his neck pulling him closer to her as she bit his lip gently. She leaned back pulling her down with him onto the grass.   
“Jamie” she murmured against his neck as she moved down and kissed his throat. “Jamie”

It had been dark in that part of the camp, neither had brought a lamp when they sat down and the nearest group was far enough away that the light did not reach them. They could have been alone in the world as he kissed her, and she kissed him in the darkness.

 

She didn’t know what had prompted her to do it. Claire was not one for kissing men for no good reason, especially ones that she had to live in very close proximity for the next few months. But there was something about him that defied her conscious thought. She hadn’t planned to kiss him, she hadn’t even realised she was going to kiss him until the moment their lips met and it was too late by then. The weight of him above her as they kissed felt like home and his soft kisses with a hint of promise made her blood pound in her ears.

But then suddenly he was gone. He was on his feet and pulling her to hers. Light flashed around them as a row of tents went up in flames. Jamie went to move towards the commotion when gun shots rang out. Quickly changing course he turned and headed into the cover of the rainforest dragging Claire behind him. He came to a stop about 200 metres from the camp, so suddenly that they collided. The forest around them was full of people fleeing and screaming. Claire looked towards the camp and saw the main tent catch fire. She made to run towards it, but Jamie caught her arm.   
“No, mo nighean donn” he murmured into her ear, holding her close to his body both in protection and restraint.   
“But the equipment, the finds…” She was twisting in his arms trying to free herself but she could not overpower him. He pulled her closer murmuring comforting sounds into her ear, in what she guessed was Gaelic, And around her the world burned.


	3. Chapter 3

Gradually the din died down. The smell of burning hung heavy in the air. The only sounds were shouts coming from the site security team as they swept the site and sobs coming from amongst the trees. Claire had dropped to the ground when the security team had opened fire, her hands clasped to her ears. Jamie sat next to her, his arms around her, shielding her with his body and murmuring comforting platitudes in a mixture of gaelic and english into her ear. Slowly she dropped her hands and looked up. Jamie’s face was close to hers and he kissed her softly and chastely.  
“Are you ok, Mo nighean donn?” He asked holding her slightly away from him and looking at her intently as if inspecting her for damage.

“Wha, what does that mean?” Her voice sounded shaky even to her own ears. When he didn’t answer she replied to his question. “Yes, yes, I’m ok. A little shaken, but ok.”   
Jamie stood and pulled her to her feet. He turned to move and she caught his hand, pulling him back towards her.   
“Are you ok, Jamie?” she ran her hand along his cheek meeting his eye. Her hand shook slightly. He opened his mouth as if to reply and then stopped and pulled her towards him abruptly. Claire had no idea how long they stood like that before he finally pulled back and nodded.

“Let’s go see what’s to do” And taking her hand and leading her back towards the site. 

They arrived to find things calmer than might be expected. Despite the gunfire no one had been seriously injured aside from one of the interns who had broken an ankle running in the woods. A row of eight tents had been completely destroyed and the main tent had caught fire down one side. 

“The sorting area is toast” declared Dr Zapote, coming up behind them. “But most of the finds were still boxed and it doesn’t seem like too much of the equipment got damaged. Water damage might end up being a bigger concern.” She ran her hands through her hair looking understandably harassed. “Claudio, Doctor Moreno, says he’s lost some reference materials, but nothing irreplaceable, but his first assistant anthropologist is freaking out so he’s busy dealing with him.

“How are you, Luisa?” Claire turned to the small brunette. They’d worked many digs together and Claire considered her both a friend and colleague.

“Dios madre,” she exclaimed “This is ridiculous. You expect this doing war zones, not archaeology.” Luisa Zapote has recently returned to archaeology after an extensive stint working for the UN excavating mass graves in the former Yugoslavia and before that in the Congo. Luisa had never spoken about it much, but it had affected her badly. 

Jamie had wandered over to the cluster of people in the centre of the clearing. Claire could hear him speaking to the head of security in spanish. He was too far away for her to make out what he was saying but she could tell by his tone that he was asking questions. Luisa followed her gaze and looked at her archly.

“So, you have the hots for Big Red do you?” Claire looked back at Luisa, sharply, but even the dim light couldn’t hide the blush that crept up her face. Luisa laughed. “Thought as much. Just how much? Would you let him put it anywhere?” Claire’s exclamation of outrage was cut short by the return of Jamie himself. Luisa snorted loudly through her nose and Claire dug her hard in the ribs. Jamie looked at them both suspiciously before continuing undaunted.

“The security guys seem to think this was organised. Not just opportunist thinking we might have something of value to steal. The damage was done deliberately but is also targeted to certain areas. He seems to think this was meant to scare us off rather than a deliberate attempt to harm, these guys don’t mess around and had they wanted casualties they would have gotten them”

“But why on earth? We’re an archaeological excavation, even at its most contentious there is nothing here worth violence? Did they offer any ideas on motives? Claire had moved from embarrassment to distress. 

“The stories” Luisa was matter of fact “People have always half believed them, and now that someone is digging here, many see that as a sign that there is truth in them. That there is something of value here.” She shrugged.

Claire was a practical person and whilst she loved the stories behind the work she did, the myths, the legends that shaped cultures and made them unique, she was often frustrated that so many people still equated archaeology as solely the preserve of treasure hunters. The irony that the imperial treasure hunters of the nineteenth century were both responsible for a wealth of discovery but also for the virtual looting of ancient sites the world over was not lost on her, and she like many archaeologists struggled with the legacy of this. 

She exhaled strongly through her nose and pulled herself together. 

“OK, here’s what we need to do. First of all we need to increase the security presence around here, we have a lot of people here and we were lucky no one was seriously hurt.”

She turned to Luisa and Dr Moreno, who had just appeared looking harried.  
“Luisa. Claudio. You need to to do some press. We need to make it clear that what is going on here is research and rescue archaeology designed to preserve valuable cultural artefacts in an at risk area. Not a treasure hunt. Talk about the finds we have already, highlight the fact that nothing of monetary value has been recovered and that we do not expect it to be. Secrecy around what we are doing here will only add to the talk.”

Luisa answered this. “Perhaps we could invite some people from the nearest town to visit the site? There are many people here for whom this is their history, they might appreciate seeing what we’re doing here.”  
Claire nodded and turned to Jamie eyebrow raised looking for agreement.  
He nodded in return and spoke. 

“And now I think the best thing we can do is get everyone to bed. I doubt many will sleep, but we need some normality and everyone could do with the rest. We’ll restart excavations at 10am tomorrow. I’ll go let everyone know.”

 

As he returned to the tents he could see Claire outside her tent, pacing agitatedly, her arms wrapped around herself against the cool night. 

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” He said quietly.He felt suddenly shy as he remembered their kisses. It seemed like days ago now, not mere hours. 

She ran her hands through her hair making the curls fall madly around her face.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She resumed pacing. “This is madness. All this talk of treasure hunters and lost gold. Its ridiculous. Its 2017 not 1917. I’m a fucking scientist for christ sake!” She came to a halt a foot away from him. Her fists were clenched by her sides and her jaw was tight,

“Aye. I ken. This is no exactly what I was expecting from this dig either. The fact is it doesna matter what we believe, someone thinks there is *Something* here, whether its treasure or something else entirely, I don’t know, but it's clear these people are dangerous and that they would prefer if we weren’t here.”

He could see her trying to get control of her breathing.

“Go to bed, Claire. Get some rest. You’ll feel less fashed in the morning.” He reached forward and tucked a curl behind her ear. She closed her eyes and raised her hand to his, trapping it against the side of his face.

“Stay with me, Jamie.” She looked up at him from under her lashes her strange whiskey coloured eyes almost yellow in the moonlight. Her voice was quiet but steady. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he fought to find words. 

“Please.” It was almost a whisper as she closed the gap between them and took his hand. “Will you?”

He nodded mutely before pulling her close to him and holding her. Her hair smelt of smoke and gunpowder, but was soft and warm as he laid his cheek on the top of her head, his hands on her back. She brought her arms around his waist and they stayed like that for a moment, and he couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began. He kissed the top of her head.

“Are you sure, Mo Nighean Donne? I ken we’ve had stressful day, I dinna want you to do anything you might regret tomorrow.”

She looked at him, her gaze steady and sure, no sign of the fretfulness of earlier.

“The only thing I would regret was not asking you.” She smiled then and Jamie felt a flutter in his stomach. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”


	4. Chapter 4

She was like a living flame in his arms. The heat of her as she moved against him took over his senses and he thought that he could be consumed by her. He could smell the mingled scents of smoke and something citrusy in her hair, feel the soft skin burning white hot under his touch, feel her breath against the side of his face as they moved together. She arched her back slightly increasing the pressure between them. He could hear cries of pleasure but could not tell if they came from him or from her. They were one being as they moved. Her hands were in his hair, his on her back pulling her closer still. He could feel his pleasure building and tried to slow himself. She felt it too, grinding against him, pulling his lips to hers, her tongue darting out to find his own. He had known nothing like this intensity in a woman’s arms before, this feeling of complete unmooring. He murmured against her lips, near senseless gaelic, words falling from his lips like a prayer. He felt her tighten around him as her own climax came and he allowed himself to let go completely, he could dimly hear her crying his name over and over through the haze of it. 

They collapsed against each other, both breathing heavily. He pulled her against him as they succumbed to fatigue and fell into a satiated slumber.

 

She rose slowly from sleep as if fighting her way through a thick fog. The watery light told her it was still very early. The air still smelt thickly of smoke from the previous night, but the scent of something else also hung heavy. A familiar scent, she shifted slightly and opened an eye. Red hair spilled across the pillow and she shot into seated position. Jamie.In her bed. Naked. Very naked. It took a moment for the events of the previous evening to reassert themselves and she breathed deeply. Closing her eyes the could see him as had made love to her, she could feel his hands on her back, so big they covered almost the whole area, the way he felt moving inside her. She shuddered a little at the memory of it. At the fire he had ignited in her. Did she regret it? No, no, she had no regrets. But might he? She had invited him into her bed with nothing more than a few kisses and near death experience to precede it. She glanced around looking for her clothes, very aware that Jamie was not the only one in a state of undress and suddenly feeling vulnerable. Might he reject her? She was struggling into shorts and a vest top trying to move as little as possible in the limited space of the tent so as not to disturb him whilst her mind and emotions were still so muddled. Too late, she felt the air move behind as Jamie shifted himself onto one elbow. She froze, not daring to turn around as if it might render invisible to him. She felt a gentle hand on her hair as he played with a length.

“Is everything alright, Sassenach?” He spoke softly, he too sounding as uncertain as she felt. “Yer doing a lot of huffing and puffing there” She could hear the smile in his voice. She took a final, life giving breath and turned slightly. Her first thought was how beautiful he looked. A lock of red flopped over his forehead and his face was still a little sooty from the previous night. Moving her gaze, she could not ignore the fact that he was, quite frankly, built like a greek god. His muscles were lean and defined and the thicket of red hair on his chest made her long to touch him. He beat her to it. He reached out and ran a single finger down her jawbone and neck, reaching her shoulder he ran his hand down her arm and took her hand.

“Is everything ok?” he asked her again, His voice was sincere and she felt the ice in her belly subside a little.  
“Yes,” she breathed. “Just, just..I, I guess…” She trailed off with a shrug. Jamie sat up fully so he was facing her properly and took her other hand. 

“You were just wondering where this left us?” He asked, raising a ruddy eyebrow. “Aye, the same thoughts are running through my head as well.” He dropped his gaze and for a moment looked so utterly vulnerable that it made her heart ache a little.

“And where does this leave us, Jamie?” He raised his eyes and met hers. 

“Where do you want it to leave us, Mo Nighean Donne? Is this..? Are we…?”

Without really thinking about it, she leaned forward and kissed him gently.

“I’d like us to be. I mean, we could try.”

“Aye, I’d like that verra much, Claire.” He kissed her back, pulling him close to her, one hand cupping her face the other on the small of her back. She leaned into the kiss, deepening it, wrapping her arms around him. She pulled him down with her onto the makeshift bed of sleeping bags and blankets, savouring the weight of him on top of her, the pressure of his body, the hardness of him against her stomach. She closed her eyes and lost herself to him once more.

 

By 11am the site was a hive of activity. They had divided the team up with half excavating as normal and the other half, clearing the fire damage and going through the boxes. The sorting areas were ruined and a makeshift area set up outside. Jamie had little time to talk to Claire but was as aware of her as he was of his own presence. The way she strode across the site, back straight, shoulders back, the way the curls escaped from under hat, the curve of her hip in the khaki coloured combats she wore. He had fallen for her hard and he knew it. 

The days passed in a flurry of activity. There were no further untoward incidents and the dig was progressing as expected. Dr Zapote and Dr Moreno spoke in local schools and colleges about the work they were doing and groups toured the site. The conservational nature of the dig was highlighted . They worked themselves to the bone during the daylight hours and in the evenings he and Claire would sit by the fire and share their stories, revealing themselves to each other. And when the sun went down they would retreat to Claire’s tent where they each discovered the secrets of the other, revelling the intensity of their connection.

Three weeks into the dig, Claire left with a convoy carrying excavated finds for the airstrip in a nearby town. It was expected that she would be gone for four days and Jamie had been counting the hours until her return. She had travelled with Luisa and a group of interns who would be returning to Mexico city and would be bringing back a new group to complete the next phase of the dig. On the day she was due back, Jamie found himself utterly unable to focus, straining his ears for the rumble of trucks up the dirt path. When eventually, he heard the sound of engines approaching he practically knocked the archaeologist he had been working with to the ground in his hurry to get out of the tent.

He strode towards the makeshift parking lot as three trucks pulled in, grinning from ear to ear. But the smile died on his lips as he rounded the corner. Two of the trucks were the expected vehicles, piled high with people and equipment, but the third was not what he had expected to see. The dark blue police truck drew to a halt and three officers, heavily armed got out.

One of these officers strode over to wear Jamie was standing, fists clenched as he tried to remain calm, as his eyes darted over the group spilling out of the trucks, looking for Claire.

It took a moment for his brain to translate from the Spanish the officer spoke but when it did, his world tilted and black spots danced in front of his eyes.

Accident. Serious injuries. Possibly deliberate. 

His stomach heaved. Claire. Oh God, Claire.


	5. Chapter 5

Jamie’s knuckles were white around the handles of the kit bag that he clutched in his lap. It had been a long and bumpy journey from the dig site down to the city where Claire lay in hospital after the ambush on her convoy last night. Jamie was not a religious man, he hadn’t prayed since he was a child and his mother lay dying, but he prayed now he prayed with everything he could muster.  
“Let her live, please god, let her live”

As he burst into through the doors of the hospital people turned to look. Even in the busy chaos of the emergency department, his size, his hair and most of all the sheer power of the emotion that radiated from him, turned heads.

‘Claire, Claire Beauchamp, where is she?’ He had to yell over the noise as a team of paramedics dashed past, yelling instructions. The uninterested receptionist waved a red nailed hand in the direction of some double doors and shouldering his bag, Jamie turned towards them in haste. 

He found her easily. The bored looking policemen and the harassed looking interpreter who had been in the car with Claire and Luisa but had been mercifully spared injury, made it clear which room was hers. Relief spread across his face as he saw Jamie approach.

“Dr Fraser, thank god you are here.” His words spilled out in a tumble, a staged accident, the truck pulling over to assist, Claire and Luisa getting out, shots, the screech of tyres as the other car had screeched off down the hill. Jamie clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder as a gesture of reassurance but he wasn’t really listening. Through the yellowing class he could see Claire. Lying so still, her face paler than the pillowcase below her head, there were tubes everywhere and machines. Jamie fought the urge to vomit as he approached the doorway.

He spoke to the policeman in Spanish and he nodded barely looking at Jamie as he entered the room. 

He stood beside her. “Oh Claire”

 

Claire felt like she was floating. It really was the strangest sensation. It was better than what she had felt earlier though. Pain, and fear. She wasn’t really sure what had happened, she just remembered getting out of the car and walking towards the stalled car in front. A loud noise. Pain in her side. Red hot pain. And then darkness, rolling slowly in, her vision cloudy and one final thought. ‘This is what it must feel like to die’

Was she dead? The pain was gone on whilst on the one hand she was glad of it, on the other she really would rather not be dead and if this is what being dead was, whilst not unpleasant it was also rather uninteresting. She cast her mind around, her thoughts disconnected and confused. Flurries of Spanish, the smell of smoke, a flash of vivid red hair. That hair, why was that hair so important? Another flash of cogent thought. A feeling, a hand warm on her neck, a word, ‘Sassenach’. What did it mean? Jamie, Jamie. She felt herself pulled down into her own body and she was struggling, fighting against something that was holding her down. Jamie. And then darkness. 

She was struggling, the monitors sounding alarmingly. Nurses rushed in and pushed Jamie aside. What did it mean? Jamie stood, back pressed against the wall of the room as the medics did their work. Let live. Please God, let her live.

Jamie sat, his head bent low over her. His hand on her head. He spoke in low almost muttered tones, he spoke in English, in Spanish, in Gaelic. He spoke of his home in Scotland and how he would take her there one day, of the family he would make with her. He spoke of the places they would go and the things they could do with their lives. He spoke of his feelings and what she stirred in him And often late at night when the tiredness and helplessness threatened to consume him, he begged her. Not to die, not to leave him. He cried hot wet tears which landed in her soft hair. He curled himself into a ball to try and contain the pain. And then he would sleep an hour or two. And wake and begin his vigil anew. 

Claire struggled upwards. She felt like she was emerging from a deep ocean. She could sense the sunlight and warmth above her, but she could not yet see it. Up, up she struggled. So not dead, she thought. If she were dead she couldn’t possibly be this hungry to start with. Her side ached. If she were dead her side definitely would not be so sore. She really needed a cup of tea. She was even more certain that dead people didn’t crave a cuppa. She was closer to the surface now. She could see light through her closed eyelids. She stopped. Listening, a voice, deep and low. A man’s voice. He sounded so very sad. She distractedly wandered why. What had made the man so very, very sad. She pushed herself up and up. The voice was more distinct now, she could make out words, though she didn’t understand the language. So not English, nor Spanish or French. Synapses fired into life. ‘Mo Cridhe’ “Mo Graidh’ ‘Sassenach’ and finally “Mo Nighean Donn”. She took a deep breath and returned to the world.

Claire opened her eyes slowly. The light seemed impossibly bright though she knew that it was not. But she had been a long time in the darkness of her own mind. She blinked, slowly letting out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and gasp. 

Jamie leapt back startled at the sudden combination of sound and movement from the bed. He picked himself up from the heap of man, blanket and plastic chair he had landed in, his eyes wide. Whiskey coloured eyes stared at him from the bed, glinting under the shadows cast by the lamp in the corner. He stood there, breathless, unable to believe the sight before him. Had her eyes been so like fire before? Had the curl of her hair around her face highlighted her ivory skin so well? He had grown so accustomed to her lying passive and unresponsive that even the small movements she made now, a slight shifting in discomfort as she became aware of all the wires and tubes, the slow blink of her whiskey coloured eyes as they became accustomed to the light after her long slumber, seemed strange and new to him.

“J Jamie?’ Her voice sounded small and weak and he rushed to her side.

“Yes, yes, Claire” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it long and hard and his eyes closed with emotion of it. “Mo Nighean Donn’ he whispered, her hand still grasped in his. A lone tear spilled down his face unnoticed. 

“Jamie, I love you.”


End file.
